Name's Roxanne (I.P.)

Window shopping, are we, handsome?
Only looking? No – please; don’t walk away.
Already, those eyes of yours undress me;
be my guest, sir, or maybe you’d prefer
a guided tour?

Figure’s – OK. Not too fat and not too thin;
turned a few heads in my younger days and yet
I admit my boobs have taken a bit of a nosedive.
Make-up’s gone to pot this time of night,
and my hair could do with a wash.

Thighs – slight touch of cellulite but not bad
for my age...apart from the scar I got, climbing
a tree as a child. Oh, and the stretch-marks; blame
it on my kids, but I wouldn’t be without them
for all the tea in China.

Don’t mind you seeing me as nature intended;
best to comply with the Sale of Goods Act;
my merchandise, albeit shop-soiled, is value
for money. What you see is what you get.
Honest to a fault – me!

See that sign over there, ‘Plenty More Bargains
In-store’. So, step inside, love, but before you do,
read the other one by the door, ‘Handle with care;
all breakages to be paid for,’ as Mum would say,
setting out her market stall.